IT NEVER FAILS. Once several high-profile, fatal crashes of a new airplane grab the attention of the mainstream media, questions emerge about whether the effort is worth the risk. Doubts are raised about continuing the program, and a search for blame begins. That’s what’s happened to the Navy’s new transport plane, the V-22 Osprey. Two crashes in the past year have killed 23 Marines — including the plane’s best and most experienced pilot. The latest crash, on December 11, 2000, came right around the time the Osprey’s primary customer, the Marine Corps, was to have finalized the decision to purchase the innovative plane. The crash prompted the grounding of the aircraft, the postponement of the final decision to buy, and an investigation by a panel of outside aerospace experts named by the Pentagon to examine the program from top to bottom and advise the defense secretary on whether to proceed. And it got worse. In January, 60Minutes broadcast a damning expos of a possible coverup by program officials and the commander of the new Osprey squadron, Lt. Col. Fred Leberman. The Washington Post, the New York Times, CNN, and all the other networks picked up the story and cast a cynical eye upon the Osprey. By now, hearings, news conferences, investigations, and headlines have the Marine Corps scrambling to keep the program alive. The Marines want to buy 360 Ospreys for $38 billion. What they value about the plane is that it can fly faster, farther, and longer than the choppers now flown by the Marines. The CH-46 Sea Knight, the grunts’ primary transport into battle, is 30 years old. Most of the grizzled generals in the upper echelons either flew this helo in Vietnam or ran off its ramps into the jungles. It’s high time their men had a new ride into battle. Not only that, but President Bush might have had the Osprey in mind when he said that our military needs to “skip a generation” of weaponry. The V-22 is revolutionary. The only aircraft of its type, it has two huge propellers, one at each end of the wing. It can fly like a normal airplane with the props tilted forward. In this mode, it reaches a top speed of 275 mph. Once in the battle zone, the pilot can tilt back the props and land the plane vertically like a helicopter. A Marine pilot who flies the AH-1 Cobra attack helo, one of the fastest choppers in the military, said he was stunned at how fast the Osprey moves. He said when his Cobra was flying 150 mph, the Osprey streaked by him so fast it looked as if its wings were bent back. The helicopter that the Osprey is intended to replace flies fully loaded at 100 mph. In combat, speed and agility are key to survival. Furthermore, achieving this new generation of flight is not as technologically daunting as critics, including some in the media, claim. Most of the criticism stems from a general ambivalence toward envelope-pushing military test programs in peacetime. During the Cold War, when the threat was plain, there was a much greater sense of urgency. The military equipment being developed by the services had to be the most sophisticated possible, and the public was willing to accept the risks inherent in bringing cutting-edge ideas to fruition. Many experienced defense engineers say the public today is much less willing to hear about crashes. This forces testers to be cautious. It leaves them reluctant to take risks that could reveal problems with an aircraft early. One of the panelists investigating the Osprey program told lawmakers in testimony on May 1 that the purpose of testing in the old days was to break something intentionally. That way engineers saw where a system might fail, and they could come up with fixes before a plane reached the field. But not today. When a plane crashes and kills a pilot and crew, as did the Osprey that crashed in Arizona on April 8, 2000, killing 19 soldiers, the public’s doubts come to the fore. Is this aircraft safe? Does the military really need a plane that just killed 19 people? Why not use helicopters already proven through years of use? What the public and media don’t take into account is the nature and history of flight testing itself. It is extremely unusual for everything to go according to plan during the testing of a new system. It would be a miracle for a new plane not to crash once during development. Test pilots know this and accept the risks, as do designers, engineers, and the military as a whole. But not the public. We all saw the stunning success of the F-117 Nighthawk stealth fighter over the skies of Iraq in 1991. The stealth jets were the first wave of the air war, targeting command and control buildings in Baghdad. The jets slipped past one of the most sophisticated air defense networks in the world using revolutionary technology that allowed them to remain nearly invisible to searching radars. But few realized that the F-117 program had suffered three crashes during its development. It had suffered three more after it was declared operational. The public now takes for granted that the stealth plane can bomb heavily defended targets with near impunity. But the truth is the plane derives its stealth largely from its diamond shape, which deflects radar energy. Because this shape is inherently unstable, the jet is mostly flown by a computer. Combine that with the fact that the jet operates only at night, and you’ve got what amounts to a risky flight test program. Unlike the Osprey, however, the F-117 was a top secret “black” program, hidden from the prying eyes of skeptics, and thus never suffered the glare that has accompanied the testing of the V-22. One wonders whether stealth technology would ever have matured if the three F-117 crashes had brought the program under close scrutiny — or whether publicity would have cost the United States one of its most effective weapons. Like stealth technology, the tilt-rotor will go forward. The concept has been tested for many years by both NASA and the Defense Department. The Osprey has been flying for nearly 10 years and has crashed four times. Two of the crashes occurred during development and involved aircraft that were not yet fully operational. Now, to put it simply, the aircraft works, and the Marines believe it will save lives. True, some aspects of operating and maintaining it still need to be improved, but that comes with the program’s maturity. No doubt the Marine Corps could have been more straightforward about the risks associated with new advanced aircraft. The brass should have made clear to the public and the press that the Osprey program might experience bumps and even crashes. But to abandon the Osprey at this stage, or to delay it so long that it became highly vulnerable to a cut, would be a disaster for the Marine Corps and a serious blow to American interests. We are the country of innovation, founded in a spirit that welcomed risk. The Osprey ushers in a whole new way of fighting wars. So much so that its introduction into service will prove to the public — and to the troops whose lives depend on it — that we were willing to stick out the hard times to get the best weapon our money and know-how could buy. Christian Lowe covers aviation for Defense Week. May 21, 2001; Volume 6, Number 34
